Don't Shine the Light
by Jetainia
Summary: Don't go into the light; that is what the rest of the world hears. Don't shine the light; that is what Phil hears.


_MC4A Winter Bingo_

 _Prompt: 2C (Light)_

 _Representations: Phil Coulson; Death_

 _Bonus Challenges: Creature Feature; Second Verse (Middle Name)_

 _Stacked With: Winter Bingo; Paranormal Phantasm; Terms of Service; In a Flash_

 _Word count: 870_

* * *

 _Don't go into the light_. It was something that almost everyone heard at some point in their lives. Whether it was in a movie, by a teasing friend, or by a grieving loved one; they heard it. Everyone knew what it meant. What _the light_ was. The light was death, the light was the last thing you saw before your soul left your body and entered the afterlife.

Phil heard it differently. _Don't shine the light_. For if there was no light, how could one enter it? His parents had told him since he had first accidently let his light shine, _don't_. His light was dangerous to others. He had spent his entire childhood trying to control the light that was determined to shine when it deemed it necessary. And only on the battlefields had he realised why.

A risk. That was what Phil going into the Rangers was. A monumental risk with the reward of freedom. The wars were when he was surrounded by death and the light inside of him insisted on being released. With every death, and every release of the light, he learned more. The light was not evil as he had been told, the light was not something that caused death as his parents had thought. The light gave those already dying a peaceful death.

When Marcus invited him to SHIELD, Phil said yes. Marcus knew about the light and how draining it was to constantly be releasing it. Marcus' vibrant life and tenacity in holding onto it was one of the few things that could restore Phil's energy after a long day. Less constant death and the company of the person that was able to help him? Phil didn't even hesitate.

* * *

"You are attracted to death," Maria Hill says one day.

Nick snorts from besides the coffee pot, "He's just attuned to it. If anything, death is attracted to him."

"All I do is lend a helping hand."

"I'm sure you do, Phil." Maria grins at him before passing over the mug of coffee Nick had made. Nick winks at him and Phil offers a coffee mug salute.

Later, when Phil and Maria are on the same mission and an operative dies, Phil lets the light out as she watches on. Later, when they sit together next to the dead man and wait for extraction, Maria says, "Helping hand, huh?"

Phil's lips quirk slightly, still feeling hazy from the light. "Helping hand."

* * *

He felt the cold blue pierce through him. It was a light, but it was a wrong light. It was twisted and used for destruction and subjugation when it should only be used to heal or separate. He felt it as the blue tried to pry his soul away from him, tried to remove his very being from him. As he aided those who were already on their way, it was forcing him to leave before he was ready.

Phil collapsed against the wall as the blue and his light fought inside him. As Loki gloated above him, Phil forced back the chaos of the blue and pulled the trigger of the large gun he held. The effort reduced his light to a mere spark and he knew the blue would soon overwhelm him. He would not have a peaceful death, there was not enough light left in him for such a thing.

Nick ran in and knelt before Phil. "You hold on there, soldier. You'll see another day."

"That's…rather unlikely, sir." Phil coughed up blood halfway through the sentence, evidence that he spoke the truth. The spark was trickling out, trying to help him.

Nick grasped Phil's right hand and pushed his fierce love of life into Phil, feeding the small spark that was still desperately trying to do its work. As Phil had been there for so many colleagues, now Nick was there for him. The extra vitality was all his light needed and it expanded all throughout his body, drowning out the blue.

* * *

The Avengers battled against Loki and his army of aliens. The police and other emergency services were getting civilians out of danger while helping the team of heroes where they could. No matter how fast the group saved people, there would always be those lost in a battle such as this. But they were not alone as they died.

Appearing in front of each of them was a bland-seeming man in a nondescript suit who gave them a small smile and left a small ball of light for each of them. The light was comforting and eased their pain. No one died in agony during the Battle of New York, not with a reaper watching over them and shining his light.

Phil Coulson stayed with SHIELD even after his death. Each operative that died in the line of duty was taken care of. He was sad that he could no longer truly be with his friends. He was happy that he could ease the way for more people, no matter where in the world they were. _Don't shine the light_ , his parents had said. Phil knew his purpose was to shine the light so that others could go into it. The light was nothing to fear.


End file.
